


High School Reunion

by breeisonfire



Series: TAG prompt fics [3]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, High School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: tenjounotora prompted: "one of the boys going back for a high school reunion"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Listen I hate titles. Also I forgot to put this on AO3 so I'm finally doing that.

The thing is, most of the world is unaware that Scott and his brothers are International Rescue. It’s not a _secret_ , per se, but they don’t exactly parade around the fact. They’re well-known because of their dad and how big Tracy Industries is, but as far as most people go, the Tracy brothers are just the sons deceased billionaire Jeff Tracy. Most of their achievements, Gordon’s Olympic medal notwithstanding, aren’t public, or at the very least are only public to a certain degree.

Most of the time, Scott’s grateful for the privacy. This is one of those times he is emphatically _not_.

Scott had started high school in Kansas and finished it at a small military academy on the East Coast. He showed up two weeks into his sophomore year and was almost immediately dismissed by most of his peers as someone who’d bought his way in. Scott had worked hard to prove himself, graduating as valedictorian with a 4.0 GPA, and even still, there had been people muttering about him relying on his dad’s money.

Ten years later and he’s at the reunion, silently cursing all four of his brothers and Kayo for talking him into this. Alan, having been homeschooled for most of high school, had been fascinated with the idea with a high school reunion, and Gordon still kept in touch with people he’d known. John’s planning on going to his own, already scheduling rotation around it (John went to a tech school and even if he didn’t really have friends, he _did_ have the fact that he was about ten times smarter than all of them and he wasn’t afraid to use it). Scott’s about ninety percent sure Kayo and Virgil had just thought watching him squirm was funny when they’d joined in on pressuring him.

He doesn’t remember most of their names, nor does he particularly care. He’s so far managed to stay at the edge of the room and not interact with anyone, but he doesn’t expect that to last. There are too many curious glances shooting his way for him to be left alone.

Sure enough, a woman comes up to Scott, clearly dressed in a way that’s supposed to impress, and flutters her eyelashes at him. “Hello, Scott.”

Scott’s been in enough emergencies and boring board meetings to be able to keep a carefully neutral expression on his face, despite the fact that he has no idea who the hell this woman is. She doesn’t look familiar at all. He can’t help but think what Lady Penelope would say about her shoes and how they’re just a few shades off from matching her dress.

Maybe he needs to stop going to benefits and other events with Lady P, because now that he’s noticed it, he can see that she’d tried to match her nail polish and lipstick as well and missed by another few shades. Scott’s got an artist for a brother, he knows it’s important to match colors exactly.

He’s judging her. He’s totally judging her and he is an _asshole._ “Hello.”

She almost deflates, looking disappointed. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Scott can’t think of a way for this to not make him sound like a dick. “No, I’m sorry.”

She heaves a very heavy sigh that would put Gordon at his most dramatic to shame and says, “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. It has been ten years. We had Ethics together, I sat behind you.”

Not helpful. Scott can’t even remember which year he had Ethics, let alone who he sat by. He glances at her name tag, which says ‘Laura’ on it, hoping to kickstart his memory.

Nope, still nothing. But he’s got nothing to lose, so.

“Oh,” he says, faking surprise. “Right, Laura! You look so different.”

She laughs, looking delighted. “I know! I was so hoping you would still recognize me. You look good.”

Oh, God. He’s made a mistake. “Thank you.”

His short reply does not seem to dissuade her from making conversation. “So what have you been up to? As far as I can tell, you didn’t keep in contact with anybody.”

Scott shrugs. “This and that. Nothing too exciting.”

Then, because he’s been here before with a much more impressive (and rich, and influential, and mildly intimidating) crowd, he says, “Heard anything interesting here?”

Her eyes light up. Scott almost feels bad for leading her on as she starts to talk. He doesn’t like to play people like this - that’s for Kayo and Lady P to do - but he hates small talk and he does not want to be here.

Laura goes on for a while. Scott doesn’t have to contribute to the conversation at all, which is a relief. He keeps catching people staring at him, most of them not bothering to hide it, and he’s growing increasingly uncomfortable.

It’s the same looks he’d gotten back in school. Some are resentful, some are dismissive, but they all tell Scott the same thing. They _still_ think he’s relying on his dad’s money. They still think he’s just strolling through life without a care in the world.

Normally, he’d shrug it off. It doesn’t matter in the long run. He’s a member of International Rescue, pilot of Thunderbird One. He’s done and seen amazing things. He doesn’t need their approval, has never needed it.

But for a moment, he’s back in high school, unable to impress anyone no matter what he does, and despite the fact that he’s aged ten years since then, it still stings.

It only lasts a second before Scott shakes it out of his head. He knows better. None of this is important.

Nor is it worth his time. “Excuse me, Laura, but I have to go.”

She looks up, eyes wide. “Are you sure? There’s supposed to be a band in a bit, you should stay and dance -.”

“No, I don’t think I should,” Scott said, swallowing his irritation. She was harmless and didn’t deserve to be snapped at. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I need to go. It was nice seeing you.”

He makes his escape before she can respond, leaving the gym through a door to the outside. He half expects her to come after him, but she doesn’t. He breathes a sigh of relief in the cool evening air.

He’s got a hotel room - Virgil had dropped him off and wouldn’t come get him until the next morning - and he sets off for it. The hotel is just down the street, too close for his liking, but he appreciates that he can walk. He’d checked in before coming to the party, so when he gets there, he heads straight up to his room and closes the door behind him.

As he locks the door, his phone goes off. He grabs it out of his pocket and looks at it almost apprehensively.

Thankfully, it’s just Gordon.

 **Gordon:** how’s it going  
**Scott:** I hate all of you.  
**Gordon:** better than expected, then

Scott snorts.

 **Gordon:** you left already didn’t you  
**Gordon:** Thunderbirds Are Gone  
**Gordon:** virg says he’s not coming to get you until tomorrow anyway

Gordon has a tendency to text repeatedly if you don’t respond to him (a habit that Alan has unfortunately started to adopt). The best thing to do is to head him off early, as Scott has learned the hard way, so as he sits down on the bed, he types.

 **Scott:** good night Gordon  
**Gordon:** aw scotty you’re an old man now going to bed so early  
**Scott:** GOOD NIGHT GORDON  
**Gordon:** you don’t have to yell  
**Gordon:** you senior citizens need your rest i get it  
**Gordon:** good night  
**Gordon:** hey do you wanna dye your hair to get rid of the greys  
**Scott:** GORDON  
**Gordon:** okay okay i’m done sorry  
**Gordon:** Thunderbirds Are Grumpy  
**Gordon:** goodnight  
**Gordon:**  i’m buying hair dye just fyi  
**Gordon:**  okay now i’m done

Scott’s already muted his phone. This is another thing he’s learned the hard way.

Still, though. He’d take Gordon at his most annoying above every single person at that reunion. He groans and falls back to lay down on the bed. Never again. Never, _ever_  again.


End file.
